


Weakness

by hanleiahothwars



Series: Journey to Togetherness [1]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Danger, F/M, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 07:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18516625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanleiahothwars/pseuds/hanleiahothwars
Summary: Han, Leia, and the bounty hunter they ran into on Ord Mantell...





	1. Ord Mantell

**Author's Note:**

> *I have no idea whether Ord Mantell is meant to have beaches, but on an entire planet I figure there's got to be one somewhere. It's also stated as being a volcanically active planet, so I image this particular spot to be an uninhabited island with a shoreline similar to Hawaii's craggy beaches like Laupahoehoe Point.*
> 
> This is my take on what befalls Han and Leia during the fateful Ord Mantell mission that leads to Han leaving at the beginning of Empire Strikes Back. All of this really comes out of (over)dissecting the exchange: "I thought you had decided to stay?"/"Well, the bounty hunter *we* ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind."
> 
> For me, 'decided to stay' has to be more than just sticking around with the Rebellion, because Han has already been doing that; there's no decision there; it's already the continual state. So in my headcanon that means Han was going to officially join up with the Alliance and had told Leia as much, but then he backed out of it because of what went down on Ord Mantell.
> 
> I've purposefully started this mid-scene because what's happening in the prelude to this isn't the story I have to tell. However, it is an important piece of the puzzle in understanding the fallout that will come (i.e. the position of anger we find Leia in at the beginning of Empire, as well as the antagonism and tension present between Han and Leia in those early scenes — since I'm not of the mindset that all the two of them ever did was fight). All you really need to know going in is that my headcanon for Ord Mantell leading up to this is quite literally corellian-smuggler's "Heat" (an absolutely brilliant fic which everyone should read; seriously, if you haven't read it yet, go find it on fanfiction.net), only in my headcanon Han and Leia get interrupted before they can consummate. And we join the scene there…..

"Leia….min larel," Han whispered as he moved his hand to the small of her back and pressed her body to his, skin-on-skin beneath the water.

Though she wasn't familiar with the Corellian phrase, the intent and feeling came through clearly in his tone, and she sighed blissfully, winding her arms around his neck.

"Min tejha larel," he murmured in response, his lips now less than centims from hers — she was his entire universe, every moment of the past three years leading up to this kiss.

And suddenly "Solo!" burst through the sultry night air, not in Leia's sweet voice but snarled in malevolent command.

Han prided himself on his quick-draw reflexes, even straight out of a dead sleep. But there was a world of difference between sleep and standing on the brink of finally making love to Leia, so it took him half a second to clear his mind. When he did, he looked back to the beach to see Boba Fett — Jabba's favorite lackey and one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy — standing at the edge of the shore, his blaster trained on them.

With a startled yelp, Leia drew away from Han, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself, but in an instant Han had her behind him, covering more than just her nudity as he made himself a human shield between her and the bounty hunter. It was an undeniably dire position they were in, pinned down in the water with nowhere to go and without any weapons, but he was determined to do whatever it took to see Leia safely out of this.

Survival instincts told Han to come up with a plan and fast, but as if reading his mind, Fett ordered, "If you value her life, you'll put your hands where I can see them and come slowly out of the water."

Fett was smart, Han would give him that, to direct the threat at Leia rather than him; it made the stakes completely different and so much higher. The fact that Leia had essentially now been reduced to a pawn in Jabba's game was equal parts revolting and immeasurably terrifying to Han, but he nevertheless assumed a hard, threatening demeanor that he wouldn't allow to waver for even a moment. "Let her go, Fett," he demanded. "Your business is with me, not her."

"And why would I let her go? As long as I have the princess, I have you right where I want you: compliant and at my mercy."

_The princess_. Shit. That meant Fett recognized Leia —  _of course,_  he recognized her; when could they ever catch a break? — and now their already treacherous situation just became exponentially more perilous. "If you hurt her, I  _will_  kill you," Han said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

"Am I supposed to be threatened by that?" Fett sneered. "The only thing you're a threat to, Solo, is the two of you. When I found you out here like this, I could hardly believe it. Naturally, I'd heard the rumors, but thought them just that. The man I'd been familiar with in Jabba's employ was certainly not one to get hung-up on a woman. Nor was he foolish enough to ever think he could rise to the level of the Last Princess of Alderaan. Still, everywhere I went, every being I asked told me the same thing: if you want Han Solo, acquire the princess first; he'll follow her anywhere, do anything to get her back."

Fett snickered scornfully, delighting in having the upper hand on Jabba's once golden boy. "And were they ever right about you!  _She_  is your weakness, to be sure. Just look at the 'Great Han Solo', reduced to this. I thought I would at least have to sneak up on your while you slept, capture the princess and use her to lure you out. But you made it so  _easy_!" he taunted, thoroughly relishing Han's downfall. "Stranded, fully aware the Empire was after you if not the Hutt, knowing your situation was fraught with danger, and yet you let all your guard down to fuck a pretty woman in the ocean. The 'Great Han Solo'," Fett scoffed. "You aren't worth half the bounty being offered. But I'll take it, nonetheless."

Han glanced over his shoulder at Leia, and it was like five tons of duracrete sitting heavy on his gut, the utter shame of how completely he had failed her. Because Fett was right; this was  _his_  fault. A result of  _his_  amateurish behavior.  _His_  foolish, reckless culpability. It was Han's worst nightmare — Leia in mortal danger — and  _HE_  was to blame;  _his_  actions led to the current look of panic in her eyes that she was trying so hard to conceal. The weight of that knowledge, the intensity of his guilt, was enough to make him physically ill.

"Now out of the water," Fett ordered. "And I mean it, Solo, don't try anything stupid."

Locking eyes with Leia — silently conveying that she stay put, stay silent, stay safe, no matter what should happen to him — Han slowly emerged from the waves. Naked and still in a semi-aroused state, he put every effort into displaying smug confidence he was far from feeling; all in a day's work, and he had zero doubt they'd best Fett and get out of this just fine.

Yet in a heartbeat, every ounce of that assumed smugness melted away into stark fear when Han saw Fett's menacing green helmet turn to focus not at him but on Leia.

"Although I can't say as I blame you for wanting to fuck this particular woman," the bounty hunter commented licentiously.

Fett considered himself to be something of a superhuman force, but Han knew he was just a man, a man with his own lusts to slack. Between the erotic scene he'd happened upon, Fett's desire to belittle Han, and Fett's awareness of using Leia to get at him, horrendous visions filled Han's mind of Fett trying to take advantage of Leia, or even outright rape her while making Han watch.  _That_  thought at once turned fear into pure, unadulterated hatred — a primal rage flowing hot and potent through his blood; he  _would_  see this man dead if it was the last thing he ever did.

"Let her have her clothes, Fett," Han spat viciously, only his concern for Leia's safety stopping him from rushing the bounty hunter to the ground and beating him to a pulp, blaster or no blaster.

"I like things fine just as they are," Fett taunted. "With all of your impudent, impetuous irresponsibility on full display. If any harm should come to the princess, we both know it will be because you were thinking with your wrong head this time, Solo."

While the man were preoccupied, locked in a battle of masculine one-upmanship, Leia was cautiously making her way towards the shore. If nothing else, perhaps she could use the element of surprise to her advantage.

But any such hopes were dashed with Fett's scornful, "Stop right where you are, Princess. Now is not the time to start adopting your smuggler's reckless ways. Any such foolish ideas are beneath both your intelligence and your royal standing — if there's anything left of that  _to_  tarnish after consorting with such lowlife scum," he added acerbically, overtly twisting the knife into Han's already eviscerated sense of pride.

Leia, however, wasn't concerned with her maidenly honor at the moment. Her thoughts were solely on getting herself and Han out of this alive. Unfortunately, Fett had no idea how far off-base he was. She wasn't entertaining any 'foolish ideas' because Leia knew there were  _no_  ideas to have. They didn't have any weapons anywhere out on the beach; in their thoughtless desire for each other, they hadn't so much as brought their vibroblade with them.

Now that she was near enough to the shore to necessitate crouching in the water as the only crude concealment for her nakedness, ignoring Fett's command, Han reached down to the sand for the nearest garment that would work to cover her – his shirt – and tossed it to Leia.

She pulled it over her head, rising as she did so, but it still became soaked-through from her upper thighs to where it stopped mid-knee, clinging wet to her legs as she carefully approached them on the shore.

"I said, stay where you are!" Fett shouted to her, sensing some impending gambit in the two of them ganging up on him, forcing him to split his sights between them.

"I have to come out of the water, don't I, if you mean to take me hostage?" Leia retorted smartly.

"You don't gotta involve her at all, Fett," Han contradicted, with no clear idea where he was going with this, just an overwhelming need to get the bounty hunter's focus safely off Leia and back on him. "You said yourself, I already made your job easy. No need to use her when you got me right here. That's what Jabba wants, what he's payin' for; he's got no business with her."

Han could tell he had him, that at the very least he was listening with interest. "I'll make a bargain with you, Fett, an offer even you can't refuse. I'll go with you without a fight; I'm clearly unarmed and vulnerable." He gestured ruefully down to his nakedness. "I'll let you take in the easiest bounty you'll ever have. You can present me to Jabba on a silver kriffin' platter for all I care.  _If_  you just let Leia go. If you don't, so help me god, I will fight you till the both of us are dead — and then see you in hell to fight you some more."

"That's not a very wise bargain, Solo," Fett laughed derisively. "Do you really think much of a better fate awaits the princess if I leave her here to die?"

"Better here than in Jabba's hands. We know what he'd do to her."

The bounty hunter weighed that over and finally allowed, "Very well. Then I accept your terms."

That seemed to be the last nail in his coffin, but Han Solo of the  _Millennium Falcon_  hadn't lasted as long as this in the universe without employing more than his fair share of insane, intrepid, reckless, daring, impulsive, clever, risky, plucky, foolhardy, brave impossible plans. True, there was next to nothing at his disposal, but when his eyes clandestinely spied one of the loose bacaonuts they'd harvested not but a few feet away on the beach, Han formulated just such a plan, with the strategy of knocking the blaster out of Fett's hand and then overpowering him while either he or Leia recovered the blaster and, thus, the upper hand.

Leia's eyes had been on Han the entire time and she anticipated what he was thinking. While she felt a familiar flash of her initial excited assessment of him on the day they met —  _He certainly has courage!_  — the danger was too great for her to wish him to actually go through with it. She had a bad,  _bad_  feeling about his plan.

When Han's gaze, for a split second, fell upon her, she tried to warn him off, but Han either didn't get the message or simply didn't listen — for, a second later, he was diving for the bacaonut.

To Leia, it seemed as if time itself had decelerated. It was as if it were all happening in slow motion, millisecond by millisecond. And she  _knew_. She couldn't say how she knew, but she knew. She felt it as certain as she felt her own heartbeat, what would happen next: Fett had also recognized Han's plan, and he  _would_  be ready for him.

She glanced over and, sure enough, Fett was moving his blaster to aim squarely at the Corellian. Unable,  _unwilling_ , to see Han disintegrated before her very eyes, reduced to nothing more than a trophy braid hanging from Fett's armor, Leia had to stop him.

Someway, somehow, she  _had_  to get that blaster away.

Her whole being reduced to that. Everything within her focused down to that one pinpoint of need: the blaster out of Fett's hands and across the beach to Han. As Leia became absorbed with that fervent need, she began to feel a sort of quivering, crawling sensation in her brain that swept as a tingle along her torso and limbs as if spreading through her very bloodstream.

Later, she would rationalize that the bounty hunter had lost control of his weapon as he pivoted in the sand toward Han, but whatever the cause, all at once the blaster was flying from Fett's hands.

But not before discharging.

Leia could see it atom by atom, the charge of the bolt forming and releasing from the barrel of Fett's blaster currently in mid-air, and it was like being back on the Death Star watching the ray shot toward Alderaan. Only, this time, she wasn't helpless. This time, she wouldn't have to stand there and watch her world be destroyed — not as long as there was breath left in her body.

" _No_!" Leia screamed in desperation, and did what she wished she could have done with Alderaan. She hurled herself in front of Han, absorbing the bolt with her body before it could get to him. And she fell like an anchor into a lifeless heap on the sand.

"LEIA!" Han's devastated cry thundered even louder than the surf, and he dropped to his knees beside her unconscious body. Heedless of Fett, he thought only to tend to his princess, his love, his heart.

But he needn't have been concerned for the mercenary's actions, anyhow, as within the next second the sounds of bowcaster fire further overpowered the rush of waves, followed immediately by a menacing Wookiee roar.

Chewie had found them. Against Alliance protocol — against direct orders — he'd spent every moment since their crash tirelessly searching for them, finally trailing Fett to the tiny island and on to his human family.

Han, however, couldn't spare a thought for his copilot, or their imminent rescue, or even the man responsible for the current tragedy. His every focus was on Leia — her motionless body, looking so tiny against the backdrop of the ocean; the dark tendrils of her beautiful loose hair tumbled haphazardly around her; and her blood, as long as he lived, he would never forgot the sight of her blood, streaming from her head to mingle with the sand beneath her.

Everything in Han screamed to cradle her in his arms protectively, but his extensive field training had taught him better than that. For her sake, he had to keep his head about him, had to distance himself, had to treat her with the clear mind of one soldier tending to another and not the headspace of a distraught lover. First, he checked her pulse. She was still alive, still breathing — which meant  _he_  could breathe again, too.

But any momentary relief was short-lived when he knew all too well that 'alive' didn't necessarily mean one would  _stay_  alive. He gently rolled Leia over from where she had crumpled onto her side to lay flat on her back so he could better assess the damage, looking for blaster wounds and the exact source of her bleeding. Yet, he couldn't find any blaster burns, or her organs spilling out like he'd envisioned in terror — Fett's hits were known for being particularly lethal, not uncommonly disintegrating his victims without even a body left to show. Everything about Leia was intact, except that she was unconscious and bleeding from a rather nasty open gash a few inches above her temple.

In confusion, he reached for Fett's blaster — which somehow now lay at Han's feet, a puzzle to be contemplated later. Turning the weapon over, he discovered Fett had been bluffing; it was set to STUN. Jabba evidently wanted a live capture, no doubt so that the vile, overgrown slug could torture him personally.

With that knowledge now in hand, Han was able to easily ascertain from Leia's position what had happened: after being stunned, she'd fallen heavily and her head must have landed against the jagged rock that jutted out from this craggy stretch of beach, making a rather deep laceration in her scalp. It was bleeding dramatically, as most head wounds do, but it wasn't life-threatening — though he still couldn't exclude the possibility of a concussion or some other serious head trauma.

Even so, it led to one conclusion: Leia was  _not_  in mortal danger; she would live. And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Han's heart began to slow to a more normal rhythm.

"Chewie!" he called out over the sandy expanse.

Chewbacca was across the beach, where the Wookiee had managed to chase off Fett — getting a few shots in, though all were deflected by the powerful Mandalorian armor — before the bounty hunter escaped with his jetpack back to his waiting ship.

Han looked up just in time to see  _Slave I_  jetting across the horizon; a smart move by Fett, knowing he'd be outpowered and outgunned by the  _Falcon_.

"Chewie!" Han beckoned again, forgetting Fett for now. "Come get Leia. She's wounded and stunned." His beloved ship was nowhere in sight which, on an island this small, meant she had to be just on the other side of the tree line. "We gotta get her back to the  _Falcon_  quick and run a scan on her."

Chewie was at Han's side in a matter of seconds, and now that the danger had passed, he was able to fully take in the scene before him: Han crouched at Leia's side, completely naked, while she lay unresponsive just beyond the incoming surf, her hair — shockingly, for an Alderaanian woman — down in a tangled riot about her head and shoulders, the strands near her left temple matted with an oozing red, bloodied and clad only in Han's semi-soaked shirt, with sand caked to her damp and bare arms and legs.

Chewbacca was not a naïve being, but even a simpleton could have figured out the implications here, the certain conclusion of what Fett had walked in on — the dizzying sweetness of long-awaited surrender in juxtaposition with the harsh reality and improprieties of the scene now before him. But, wisely, Chewie said nothing about their current state, only tossed Han his pants before gently, carefully, taking the princess into his arms and leading them back to the  _Falcon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning of the scene, Han speaks in Olys Corellisi and says, "Leia…min larel…min tejha larel", which translates to "Leia…my love…my undying love."


	2. The Falcon

Once he'd seen them safely into hyperspace, heading back to Hoth, Chewbacca went to check on Han where he sat vigil beside Leia's medbunk.

The human briefly nodded to the Wookiee before his eyes went back to the unconscious princess, too lost in his thoughts for conversation.

While Han had always known this mission was a bad idea, had vocally and repeatedly protested against going to Ord Mantell, he never would have imagined that  _he_  would be the one to put Leia's life at risk — his reckless choices, both in the present and the past.

His breath had been caught in his throat for the entirety of her mediscan, and even though it revealed nothing beyond her deep but innocuous scalp wound — which had been sealed shut and disinfected with bacta — it still hadn't provided Han with any relief.

Because although the blaster was set to STUN this time, it didn't change the fact that next time it may not be. That there would, in fact,  _be_  a next time. As surely as he was sitting there.

It was an inevitability; he could see that now, had no choice but to see it. If not Fett,  _someone_  would come after her again, use her as bait to get to him. And that was without even touching upon the risks of mere proximity.

Chewbacca's soft growl broke Han from his rumination. [We're leaving], the Wookiee stated knowingly, not a question, already sensing his captain had made up his mind.

"I have to," Han quietly confirmed, his first words spoken to anyone since instructing Chewbacca to fly the ship while he tended to Leia in the  _Falcon's_  medbay.

It had worried Chewbacca then, and continued to worry him now. Not the princess's safety – male or female, royal or pauper, he'd never encountered a human as resilient as she. No, what concerned him was  _Han's_  broken state. [Little Princess is strong], he encouraged. [She'll pull through.]

"She will," Han nodded, and that certainty incited at least a slight upward twitch of his mouth that could have become his trademark half grin were it not for the weight of his guilt bearing down on him. "But it's not just this," he said, indicating her prone body. "They  _know_ , Chewie," he revealed with the closest to hysteria the Wookiee had ever witnessed from him. "Gods, I was stupid. Fuckin' careless." He dropped his elbows forward onto his knees, his fingers clenching in his hair as forehead met palms with enough force to make an audible  _thunk_. "What I was thinkin'?!" he raged, caught in a spiral of agitation and self-reproach.

[What do 'they know', Cub?], Chewbacca asked, speaking slowly, soothingly, in an effort to calm him.

Han looked up, but with eyes too ashamed to hold his for long. " _She is your weakness_ , that's what Fett said. And apparently everyone knows it. But why wouldn't they? Kest, it's not like I was very good at hidin' it."

With that, something seemed to explode inside Han, and Chewbacca watched — stunned, even at his two hundred-plus years — as Han flung himself to his feet, letting forth a string of curses. "Shit, skrag, mother karkin'  _son of a Sith_! FUCK!" He kicked his chair across the medbay with all the violence he wished he could have directed at Fett but he knew belonged levelled squarely at himself. "That won't be the last or only hunter that has Leia in their crosshairs. They'll use her to get to me; she'll never be safe. And she can't — " Han's voice broke and he turned away, clearing his throat before continuing. "She can't be in that kind of danger."

[She already has an Imperial bounty on her,] Chewbacca reminded him, well-aware that his friend had never once forgotten but pointing out the illogic in thinking he could prevent her life from being in jeopardy.

Still, Han shook his head resolutely. "This is different."

Chewbacca grunted his understanding. Many a time, he'd deliberated along these same lines about his own family. Both his conclusions there, and his knowledge of Leia, led him to utter, [Little Princess would rather live with the danger than see you go.]

Han spun back around. "Well, she ain't gonna  _die_  with the danger. Jabba's even more of a worm-brained stoopa than I knew if he thinks I'm gonna let that happen. I won't be the cause of her gettin' captured, tortured again, worse. Dead. It won't — it  _can't_  be because of me. Because of somethin' stupid  _I_  did. Because of  _my_  mistakes. Because of  _my_  no-good past," he fumed, pounding his chest for emphasis each time he indicted himself, knowing he deserved the sting of the blows and much more besides. "That's not gonna be on her. I won't let it be."

His shoulders flagged at the unpalatability of the decision he'd come to, but he only allowed it for the tiniest second before he corrected them, took a deep breath and added with gutted determination, "Even if she hates me."

"I  _know_ ," he warned off Chewie a moment later when the Wook opened his mouth to speak. "I know there ain't no 'if'; she  _is_  gonna hate me…But she'll be hatin' me alive."

Han turned on his heel and left the medbay with one last request, spoken so softly Chewbacca had to strain to hear him: "Don't tell anyone how you found us."


	3. The Truth

Leia wrestled through a sea of unconsciousness, struggling exhaustedly to the surface although it felt a bit like a swimmer fighting against a rip-tide. She slowly stretched her muscles, first her back, then gingerly testing out her arms, hoping the movement would help rouse her.

Her sleep had been dreamless, an oblivion. All Leia knew was that one minute she was throwing herself in front of Han, desperate to save his life, and the next she was —

— Here. Wherever here was…..

At that realization, she shoved off the last clinging effects of the STUN-induced slumber and opened her eyes in a panic.

When Han came into gradual focus — alive, well, and standing silent watch over her bedside — the fear within her immediately eased, and she exhaled a long, grateful breath.

A soft murmur from Leia's medbunk had brought Han's eyes to her moments ago, noting how she'd begun to stir. Now, he could pinpoint the very second she came to full-awareness. Her countenance, the picture of alarm when she first awoke, melted into an expression of thankful contentment the instant her pupils fixed on him. It was both humbling and distressing in light of what he must tell her, how he was guaranteed to disillusion her.

He tried to think of something to say, but she beat him to it, her voice yet a throaty whisper. "We made it." The 'we' being imperative there; as far as she was concerned, if  _he_  didn't make it too then her making it didn't count. "We both made it," she sighed in relief.

Han nodded brusquely. "Yeah. Barely. If it hadn't been for Fett somehow losin' his blaster — " He paused to eye her searchingly. "— and then Chewie showin' up, things might've gone different."

"Where are we?" she questioned.

"The  _Falcon_. You're in the  _Falcon's_  medbay."

Leia rolled her eyes at him; it gave Han a welcome reassurance that her strength was coming back. "Do you think I wouldn't know this rusty bucket of bolts anywhere? Of course I know we're on the  _Falcon_. But whereabouts are we?"

"Almost back to Echo Base. Another hour or so."

She started to lift up onto her elbow and winced, her hand going by instinct to her head and the gash near her temple.

"You alright?" he asked, her show of discomfort making him instantly alert. "You cut yourself up on that rock pretty bad comin' down after he stunned you. Do you need some pain meds?"

Leia had flinched more at the unfamiliar tightness of the already healing flesh than any particularly sharp pain. "No, I'm all right." Settling back down flat on the bunk, she just looked at him. Still wearing only his bloodied shirt and nothing else, her hair down long and loose about her shoulders, it was a state of familiarity and intimacy she'd never before allowed him to view, until Ord Mantell.

She smiled softly up at him then, thinking back in tenderness on their moment together and the significance of what they'd  _nearly_  shared, remembering it — perhaps a bit surprisingly — without even a hint of regret. Not sorry at all for how things had begun, only how they'd finished.

From the look on Leia's face, the gentle smile, the sweetness in her eyes despite all that had just happened to her, Han knew this conversation was going to be beyond bad.

When he didn't smile back at her, when she instead noted a look of — Well, there was an expression on his face that she couldn't quite place. Some combination of discomfort, wariness, even….distress. Yes, he looked downright  _pained_. "What's wrong?"

Straightaway, his face snapped back to that Han Solo impassiveness. "Nothin'. You're okay. I'm okay. Chewie's okay. There's nothin' wrong with any of us."

"No." She shook her head lightly on the pillow, certain he was lying to her. "Uh-uh. That's not going to cut it this time. Something's wrong; something's bothering you. Something you're not telling me….Something you don't want to tell me."

She'd been reaching out with all the powers of what she called her 'Senate-honed perception', trying to identify the emotion in him that he was hiding from her — and it hit her as sudden and sharp as the frigid wind on Hoth. "There's something you're  _afraid_  to tell me."

"I — " He expelled a frustrated breath, looking away from her.

"Just tell me, Han." After a long moment in which he still didn't speak, she quietly adjoined, " _Not_  telling me is worse."

That brought his eyes back to hers. She wasn't wrong; he did dread telling her.  _Neither_  one of them wanted to hear him say it. But he was going to have to, sooner rather than later. He took a deep breath before plunging in. "Look, after what happened on Ord Mantell — "

Han's eyes widened a nearly imperceptible amount, but Leia noticed, as he caught himself and explained, "I mean, Fett showin' up and all." Never would he want her to think he meant that he regretted getting naked together. The time and the place and what happened to her after, he'd regret the rest of his life. But the 'together' part, that was something he could never, ever regret.

"After what almost happened, what easily  _could_  have happened…" He shook the thought away, still unable to handle it in its fullness. "When we get back to Hoth, I'm gettin' my affairs in order…and then — " Han cut off, steeling himself, his eyes intent on hers as he awaited her deserved rebuke. "And then I'm leaving."

Time, again, seemed to not just slow but outright stop — everything hovering frozen in the air, the only sound the soft whirring of the  _Falcon's_  engines. Then Leia blinked three times. She opened her mouth, nothing managed to come out, and she had to try again before successfully muttering, " _What_?", truly unsure that she'd heard him correctly. "You're what?"

"I'm leaving, Leia. I have to go pay off Jabba. It's long past time."

As that registered, she surged up to a seated position, the sheet on the medbunk falling to her waist – and god help him if his eyes didn't go to the open collar of his shirt she had on, didn't trace the deep expanse of bare skin down her gorgeous neck and cleavage it left exposed; he was a monster. "I know what you're gonna say, Leia, but I  _have_  to go. After what just happened, you must realize that, too."

Seeing the remorse rolling off of him in waves softened the initial anger of her reaction. "Han, I understand why you would feel that way after….that close call," she tried to lessen it. "And I agree it's a problem that needs to be taken care of. But there are other ways to go about this. More practical, less dangerous ways. Surely, the Alliance could — "

" _No_. I'm not involvin' the Alliance in this."

Han's tone was firm. She could tell he wasn't going to give on that point. "All right, not the Alliance, then.  _Me_. Let me help you to — "

"You're sure as hell wrong if you think I'm lettin'  _you_  anywhere near this again. You're not gettin' within fifty lightyears of Jabba."

Leia shook her head, resenting it when he got all overprotective but knowing there was no countermeasure against it in this. "Okay, so I don't have to be directly involved. But, Han, if  _you_  go to him, he's likely to kill you on sight."

She was right about the 'kill you' part, although Jabba was more likely to want to draw it out in a torturous, voyeuristic manner of his choosing, but he wasn't about to tell  _her_  that.

"The years you've stayed with the Rebellion rather than discharging your debt exacerbated the situation to what we have now," she reasoned with him. "That's why it's only fair for the Alliance to help you settle things. If we were to send a small convoy with payment, they could act as a mediator to — "

"No, Leia, I can't do that. I'm not gonna involve anyone else in what's  _my_  problem. This has nothin' to do with the Alliance. It's all me, and they're not gonna take any hits from it."

His altruism touched Leia's heart, but it didn't change the bare facts. "I appreciate your concerns in that area, I really do, but to go in alone….No, it — you can't do that. I have confidence in your abilities, Han — if anyone could talk themselves out of something, it's you — but the  _risks_." Her eyes slid away from his, unable to voice those risks aloud. "Well, you know them as well as I. You frequently listed them as part of the reason you've been hiding out with us all this time."

Han had, though it was mostly a lie. He'd been hiding out with them all this time for Leia. Oh, he believed in what they were doing, all right — and, after a while, even he couldn't hide it — but it was Leia.  _She_  was what he stuck around for. And now that he'd become a threat to her, she was what he'd leave for. "It's a risk I'm gonna have to take. I've got to take care of this myself. I'm goin'."

"Well, you — you — " She desperately grasped for passable objections, coming up with one triumphantly. "You  _can't_  go. To just leave your responsibilities with the Alliance, even for good reason, that's desertion."

"But you're forgetting, Princess, I'm not a member of the Rebel Alliance." Han looked away, hating his own self right now, but doing what he had to do. "I hadn't yet signed the papers."

Leia felt like he'd slapped her. This was far worse than just going to Jabba; he was going back on his word entirely, backing out of his promise to at last join them as soon as they returned from their mission. Han wasn't just going; he was  _going_. Leaving. For good. Like he always said he would. "Oh," she replied frostily. "I see."

No wonder he was afraid to tell her. It was a total and utter betrayal — especially after what had almost happened between them.  _Oh, gods!_   _To think of what almost happened!_  She very nearly gave herself to this man, would have given herself to him were it not for the interruption, and he still thought nothing of casting her aside.

_Of course he doesn't_ , Leia's better sense mocked her,  _and it would be no different if he'd had you. It would have only made his conquest of you a little more complete. But you_ knew _that. He's been telling you that from the very beginning. He's made no secret of the fact that he's had one foot out of the door from the moment you met him. You just refused to listen._

"So that's how it is." Beginning to shake with…. _something_  — shock, rage, pain — Leia swung her feet over the medbunk, yanking the sheet up to wrap around herself.

Han heaved a sigh; his brow furrowed and his features dissolved into unguarded contrition. "Leia, I…" He reached for her, but she sidestepped him, hopping down to her feet and as far away from him as the room would allow.

"You needn't worry, Captain. When we get back to Hoth, no one will stand in your way." And with that, she turned down the circular hallway.


End file.
